


Week Three: Non-Penetration

by dizzzylu



Series: Mating Games: The Return [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, Humor, M/M, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzzylu/pseuds/dizzzylu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I know I'm later than we planned," he mutters, easing out of his hoodie and toeing off his shoes, "but what happened to those superior werewolf senses of yours? Shouldn't you have heard the racket I made from two miles away?"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Week Three: Non-Penetration

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _Anything that involves penetration of an asshole or vagina (with fingers, toys or cocks) is NOT allowed this week. What should your entry contain then? How about some oral sex? Or there's always intercrural sex? Or foreplay, rutting, mutual masturbation, solo scenes, BDSM, creative use of toys, or any other non-penetrative play you can imagine! Don't be afraid to get creative and let your dirty little minds run wild!_

Stiles sheds it all, walking up the stairs; the stress of finals, the throb of longing in his chest, the exhaustion of a long drive. With each step closer to Derek's new apartment, the muscles in his shoulders ease and his smile grows. Anticipation helps him skip up the last flight of stairs and he all but bursts through the door, arms spread wide, only to find—

—Derek asleep in his favorite club chair. Stiles' good mood falters.

"I know I'm later than we planned," he mutters, easing out of his hoodie and toeing off his shoes, "but what happened to those superior werewolf senses of yours? Shouldn't you have heard the racket I made from two miles away?"

Derek doesn't stir, which is a little odd, but not enough to be worrying.

Stiles skins out of his jeans and tiptoes closer. " _Or_ you could be faking it in the hopes I'd ravish you in order to wake you up. Which is a plan I'm okay with, just so you know." He comes to a stop next to Derek's outstretched legs and inches one foot over them, careful and slow. Derek remains unfazed, even as Stiles shuffles forward and drops to his knees on the couch, straddling Derek's lap. Derek has his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows furrowed, but his hair's kind of flat on one side and there's a drying trail of drool at the corner of his mouth which makes him more adorable than threatening. Stiles is gentle, peeling one of Derek's hands away far enough for him to lean in close and bump his nose into Derek's cheek.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty," Stiles rasps. He's close enough for his lips to brush over Derek's beard, which isn't close enough, to be honest. Derek stirs, a little, and Stiles uses it to lean in further, to rub his cheek against Derek's. Underneath him, Stiles feels Derek's cock begin to chub up.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, do you?" Stiles says it directly into Derek's ear, his hands skimming down thick biceps and corded forearms, searching for the end to dark cotton and the smooth skin he'll find underneath. There's a zing when he finally gets there, fingertips skating over soft abs and softer hair. They push on, lifting Derek's shirt with them, and there's a delightful hitch to his breath as Stiles tweaks one nipple, then the other. After Stiles gets Derek's shirt off, there's a hint of a smile on his lips and Stiles has to kiss it. Twice. He likes to be thorough.

By now, Derek is hard, straining against flannel, and Stiles sits up on his knees to give himself enough room to get Derek's dick out. It's just like Stiles remembered it: velvety warm with a rosy pink tip. It's not leaking yet, but soon. Stiles thumbs over the head anyway, circles his thumb around the inside of the foreskin, then gives Derek a few gentle tugs.

"I knew it would be hard," Stiles says, torn between watching Derek's cock and his face, "being away from everybody I care about. But it didn't really hit me until it happened. I wanted so badly to come back for my dad and Scott and you, but I was having fun, too, which made me feel like a traitor, almost."

Stiles picks up the rhythm of his hand a little and is rewarded with the first blurt of precome couple with a grunt from Derek, his hands falling to Stiles' thighs, fingers gripping the muscle hard enough to bruise. Hopefully.

"Makes this a little sweeter, though, doesn't it?" he goes on, his voice dropping a register. He's hard now, too, and his hips have started rocking in time with his hand. The chair is big, but with the way Derek's slouched in it, Stiles is in a precarious position on the edge. He props one hand on Derek's chest for balance, which gives him the perfect excuse to toy with Derek's nipple and get his head in the game.

"C'mon," Stiles drawls, voice gone syrupy. "It's been so long, let me see you come." That gets Derek groaning, his hips hitching into Stiles' grip in easy movements Stiles matches with his own body. With his legs bare, Stiles can feel the body heat through the pajamas and he leans over, hand tightening around Derek's dick on each upstroke, to latch on to Derek's neck. Sharp teeth are what tumble Derek over the edge, his hands clamping down on Stiles' hips. Stiles rides it out with his mouth open, his tongue lapping at salty skin, until Derek's breath rushes over his ear, a relieved sigh, and he lets Stiles go.

"Good job, baby," Stiles says between licks; his hand is a mess, but Stiles is not one to waste an opportunity.

Derek grumbles and reels Stiles in for a proper kiss. "Don't call me baby," he mutters into Stiles' mouth, after.

"I wasn't talking to you," Stiles says. It's hard to hide his smirk. Heh, hard.

"Then who—" Derek stutters and his eyes narrow. "Where you talking to my _dick_ that whole time?!"

It's an effort not to laugh. It really, really is.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [dizzzzylu](http://dizzzylu.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


End file.
